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CQJPffilGHT DEPO£ 



Fifty Years Recollections 

'Dedicated to 
ZMy beloved Wife and Children 

^aul and Selma 






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COPYRIGHT BY A. L. FAULKNER, 1919 

PUBLISHED NOVEMBER 1919 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 



UfcC 26 1919 *' 



©CI.A559157 







BIRTHPLACE 




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SEPTEMBER 1868 



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OCTOBER, 1919 




Fifty Tears' ^collections 

oAn oAutobiography 

CHAPTER I 

I was born at Fayette City (then "Cookstown"), Fayette County, 
Pennsylvania, on Tuesday, October 11th, 1864, at 7:00 P. M., in a two 
story brick house located on the corner of Main and Graham Streets. 

Fayette City, or Cookstown, owing to the great predominance of 
Southern sympathizers residing there at that period, which marked 
the closing scenes of the great rebellion, was called "Little Richmond." 

Loyal hearts were few. The terms "Abolitionist" and "Lincoln- 
ite" were applied with hatred to the few loyal unionists who were 
brave enough to express their endorsement of the policies of the great 
emancipator, Abraham Lincoln, and the perpetuation of the union. 

About eight o'clock in the evening of the day above mentioned, a 
loyal, dyed-in-the-wool republican citizen met a life long friend on 
Main Street and proudly said to him, "There is another abolitionist 
down at our house, but he arrived just one hour too late to vote for 
Lincoln." That loyal republican was my father, and the abolitionist 
referred to was myself. In honor of the event, and of the great man 
who was on that day elected for the second time as President of the 
United States, I was christened Arthur Abraham Lincoln Faulkner. 

In spite of the lengthy appellation, and the ills and accident} inci- 
dent to life's early advancement, I grew into a curly haired child, my 
mother's joy, my father's pride and, being the youngest of ten chil- 
dren, the household pet. That fact must not be regarded as intended 
in extenuation of any future follies or misdeeds which may become 
a part of this story, as I shall attempt to truthfully depict the most 
important occurrences in my life without regard to fear of criticism 
or hope of commendation. 

My father, William Henry Faulkner, and my mother, Mariah Ann 
Faulkner, were married at Brownsville, Pa., December 28, 1835, by 
the Rev. Arthur Palmer. I might here fittingly add that my given 
name, Arthur, was in honor of the above-named officiating nrnhter, 
also that when I was about ten years old I elected to dispense with the 
name "Abraham." 



io Fifty Years' Recollections 

Seven boys and three girls were born to my parents. Two of my 
brothers, Thomas and John, I never saw, they having died before my 
birth. 

At the age of three years and nine months occurred the first of 
my mishaps, which, in fact, is my earliest recollection. At this time 
we had removed from the house in which I was born to a house on 
Back (now 4th) Street, near the public school building. The house 
being built on a hillside, the front was considerably elevated from the 
street level and the lawn, or front yard, where were located large 
flower mounds, ended abruptly at the stone wall which ascended from 
the pavement twelve feet below. One day I was playing hide and seek 
with our favorite cat, which, in trying to escape my persistent efforts 
to separate her from her caudal appendage, suddenly started down the 
wall, while I, being utterly ignorant of the law of gravity, and the 
frailty of free atmosphere, held on to the cat's tail, overbalanced in the 
act and crashed headlong through twelve feet of nothing to a coal pile 
below. I was badly injured about the head and for a time my life was 
despaired of. Later I have a recollection of Dr. Gordon visiting our 
house for the purpose of lancing my head, which was much swollen by 
a watery substance which had accumulated around the scalp — not on 
the brain. On this occasion I saw the doctor first and secreted myself 
under a gooseberry bush until, failing to find me, he departed and the 
operation was never performed — which may account for my recovery 
then. 

My next recollection is of my first attempt to appear manly by the 
use of lusty swear words, learned on one of my juvenile rounds. My 
mother happened to hear the outburst of profane eloquence, where- 
upon I was promptly taken to task in a manner quite as effective as 
nasty. My mother proceeded to scrub out my mouth with a mixture 
of tooth brush and soap during which she volunteered the cheering 
information that similar offenses would meet with like punishment. 
The soap suds and tooth brush scored a victory ; the offense was never 
repeated. 

About the year 1868 my parents moved to Brownsville, Pa. I can 
recall but few occurrences there, one of which I distinctly remember, 
as follows : One summer afternoon, boy like, I had wandered — or slip- 
ped — down to the Monongahela River where some boat builders were 
siding a coal boat, then nearing completion. In some way, unknown 
except to venturous youngsters of about my size and age, I succeeded 
in perching my five years of accumulated ambition upon the highest 
part of the coal boat, ten feet from the water line and considerably 
more from the shore. Looking around for more worlds to conquer, I 
espied a bee upon a large block of wood, groggily essaying to navigate 



An Autobiography 1 1 



the water beneath me. I desired to see if the bee could swim, so 
procuring a thick stick of pine wood used by the workmen for measur- 
ing lumber, I proceeded to upset the block with the pole. I succeeded, 
but unfortunately both the pole and the block slipped and I enjoyed 
my first experience in high diving. The next thing that I remember, 
I was in bed at home where I had been carried by the men who had 
heard the splash and rescued me from drowning by fishing me out 
from under the bottom of the coal boat. I never knew what became 
of that bee. 

The serious, almost fatal illness of my mother, during our resi- 
dence in Brownsville was most vividly impressed upon my memory. 

I also have a dim recollection of my sister Annie's wedding to 
Mr. W. L. Skinner, at Brownsville, Pa. At that time I conceived the 
idea that there must be something in common between a wedding and 
a funeral because everybody wanted to cry at both. 

At about this age a host of trivial happenings fastened them- 
selves upon my impressionable young mind. I recall my first pair of 
knee breeches ; how I tore a large sized hole in the seat in an unsuccess- 
ful attempt to slide down an inclined board punctured with the prover- 
bial protruding nail, and my mother's natural exclamation, "There, 
you have ruined your new pants." I was very much distressed, be- 
cause I thought they were about the finest pair in the world. Later 
I remember my elation over my first pair of boots, red topped and 
copper toed, the pride of all my possessions and the envy of my less 
fortunate playmates ; and also how manly and self satisfied I felt when 
I enjoyed the boyish rapture of possessing my first pair of suspenders, 
("galluses") and later the surging pride that entered my life when I 
donned my first pair of long pants. 

I have a dim recollection of the day we moved from Brownsville 
to Bellevernon, Pa. ; I think this was in the fall of 1869. I can remem- 
ber that we left the former place on one of the river boats just after 
dark and, as I now recall it, it seemed that I was making my first 
venture out into the mysterious, unknown world. The moaning of the 
wind, the swishing of the water, combined with the hissing steam 
and the glare of the lights aroused all the imaginative "Indian" in me. 
I was going somewhere ! To me at that time "down the river" meant 
an exploration in a new world, where mystery abounded, where dan- 
ger, even death, stalked. But I was unafraid ; unbounded faith in the 
protection of my father and mother filled me with confidence that 
nothing wrong could happen to me. 

Looking backward fifty years, I cannot help but dwell a moment 
upon the great changes in material things since that night of 
my first real, conscious adventure into the unknown. The unde- 



12 Fifty Years' Recollections 

niable, everlasting law of change has indelibly stamped the interven- 
ing years with the impress of the ravage of time. The development 
and progress of life, its sorrows and joys, hopes and cares, failures 
and successes, flash through my mind in panoramic array. Do I realize 
the importance of life ? Am I lost in wonder as to what it all means ? 
Where do we come from ? Why are we here ? Where do we go ? As 
the story of each life is written, will the future be revealed ? Shall we 
live again? Shall we cease to exist, or shall we simply continue to 
live, and live forever? Do the acts of human beings here gain for 
them eternal life, or the punishment of everlasting death, according 
as they may be of good or evil? If perfection in this life is necessary 
to attain eternal life, how many will be saved? If imperfection, sin, 
shall doom us to everlasting death, how many will be lost ? 

Looking toward the great unknown, I again feel that, "I am going 
somewhere" and that upon this long journey, as in my first venture 
down the old Monongahela river into the unknown world, I place my 
faith, not in myself, not in my father and mother as in my infancy, but 
in God, through Jesus Christ his son, our Saviour. 

The foundation of this faith, upon which I base my belief of 
eternal life, is found in the Bible, the Book of books, the chart of life. 

(1) "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten 
Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have ever- 
lasting life."— John 3. 16. 

(2) "Let not your heart be troubled : ye believe in God, believe 
also in me. In my Father's house are many mansions : were it not so 
I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go 
and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto 
myself : that where I am, there ye may be also." — John 14. 1-2-3. 

(3) "I am the resurrection and the life; he that believeth in me, 
though he were dead, yet shall he live; and whosoever liveth and 
believeth in me, shall never die." — John 11. 25-26. 

My faith is simple, yet most abiding, in God the Creator, and ruler 
over all things ; in Jesus Christ his Son, sent by God into the world for 
the redemption of humanity through repentance unto God ; the remis- 
sion of sins ; the resurrection ; the life eternal. 



An Autobiography 13 



Immortality 



When the summons from the Master 

Sounds upon my waiting ears, 

Calling me from fields of labor 

Where I've toiled for many years, 

Who will be the first to greet me, 

Of the loved ones gone before, 

When I stand, through Christ's redemption, 

On God's great eternal shore? 

Will it be the sainted mother, 
With her wealth of love untold, 
Or the dear old faithful father, 
With his character of gold? 
Will it be the helpful brother, 
Who has reached the promised goal, 
Or the cherished playmate sister — 
Childhood's twin mate of my soul? 

Rest, my weary brain, nor ponder 
O'er what will or will not be ! 
Peace, my trusting soul, be patient, 
Eons of joy are promised thee. 
Love and faith in our Redeemer 
Brings the hope that we shall be 
With our loved ones, in God's kingdom 
Throughout all eternity. 



14 Fifty Years' Recollections 



CHAPTER II 

My schooling began at Bellevernon, in the old brick school house 
on the hill. Many indistinct recollections of my early schooldays 
crowd upon my memory, experiences that would perhaps be uninter- 
esting, save one, the setting on fire of the school house by two of the 
scholars. I promptly sounded the alarm and the fire was extinguished 
with but little damage, and the six-year-old "hero" was much em- 
barrassed by the praise bestowed upon him. 

In 1871 my paternal grandmother, Catherine Faulkner, who had 
made her home with us, died at Bellevernon, Pa., at the ripe old age 
of eighty-four. The services were conducted from the home of my 
sister, iVxrs. Kate F. Porter, the interment occurring at Brownsville, 
Pa. This was the first visit of the "grim monster" in our family since 
my birth. I remember the appearance of the dear old, white haired, 
Christian grandmother in life, and I remember when I was held up 
over her casket to kiss her a last goodbye. I tried to kiss her, but 
could not reach far enough down in the casket. I believe no one but 
myself ever knew that. Grandmother Faulkner was the only one of 
my grandparents that I ever saw. Grandfather Faulkner and Grand- 
mother Dunlap both died before I was born. 

On the seventeenth day of June, 1872, we moved from Bellevernon 
to a small truck and fruit farm of eight acres, situated at what was 
then called "Frogtown," now Naomi, Pa., on the eastern shore of the 
Monongahela River, two miles above Bellevernon and one mile below 
Fayette City, the place of my birth. It was there that I received the 
early training that was destined to mold my character and shape my 
course through life, and toward the life eternal. It was there that 
the Christian faith, teachings, and influence of my sainted parents 
instilled into my heart a lasting impression of their faith in Jesus 
Christ and the life to come; faith unshaken by the storms of life, 
intensified as the years rolled by, glorified to them at life's close by 
gracious evidence of salvation to the uttermost through Jesus Christ, 
the Saviour of mankind. 

From June 17th, 1872, until I left the old home, December 24th, 
1885, were centered all the joys of my youth and budding manhood. 
To describe that period in detail would be quite impossible. It was the 
heyday of my existence, with all its juvenile joys, boyish pranks, hopes 
and dreams, without a single sorrow (except the death of my brother, 
Samuel D. Faulkner, in Allegheny City, Pa.), to mar the springtime of 



An Autobiography 15 



my life, until there came a fateful day, to which I will later refer, 
which suddenly brought me face to face with the stern reality and 
uncertainty of life. 

My brother Samuel, referred to above, was run over by a horse 
street car in Allegheny City, Pa., in October, 1879, dying at his home 
there two days later from the injuries received. He was interred at 
Bellevernon, Pa. 

I had seen but little of him, as he had married and left home 
before I was born, but I remember him as an intelligent, good looking 
man, full of sunshine and good nature that endeared him to the hearts 
of all who knew him. He was forty-one years of age at the time of 
his death. He left a widow, one son and two daughters, as well as 
the old family at home, to mourn his sudden demise. He was my 
eldest brother. I can see my dear old mother yet as she leaned over 
the porch banister, upon receipt of the sad tiding of his fatal injury, 
and poured out her great grief for the loss of her first born son, her 
"Sammie." 

I attended the Tremont School, which was located just across the 
highway from our home. The building was a one-story frame struc- 
ture. It was one of two schools which accommodated the scholars 
of the sparsely settled district of Washington township, the other 
one, located about two miles countryward, was attended by country 
scholars, while our school was composed principally of coal miners' 
children. The school room was in size about forty by sixty feet and 
contained four rows of brown painted, pine wood desks and seats, 
each seat accommodating two, and sometimes three, scholars. The 
front desks accommodated the little six year olds, and from that size 
gradually ranged larger until at the rear decks were seated the largest 
scholars, some of them twenty years old. 

In that room for six years, five months each year, I studied 
spelling, reading, writing, arithmetic and geography ; the other seven 
months I worked on our little farm, assisting my father from tree 
trimming time in the spring until the last shock of corn was shucked 
late in the fall. I was an apt scholar on the farm as well as at school 
— strong, active and tireless. 

In that school room I advanced from the front row to the envied 
big desk in the back row, and was one of the most advanced male 
scholars in the room at the time I "graduated" by voluntarily leaving 
the school for good, as mentioned elsewhere in this narrative. Years 
afterward an old factory phrase, "When the egg knows more than the 
hen, what is the use of setting it," seemed to have exactly fitted my 
case in this instance. 

"A little knowledge is a dangerous thing" — because of it being 
little. 



1 6 * Fifty Years' Recollections 



In those years I became proficient in all kinds of farm work, grow- 
ing garden truck, raising hogs and chickens, the care of horses, cows, 
ana other domestic animals, excelling, perhaps, in riding and driving 
horses. 1 also learned to mine coal and to drive ''Kicky' mules in tne 
coal mine near our home. This work I did from choice, out of pure 
love of adventure and the satisfaction of demonstrating my earning 
power, which i first exemplified as a pit wagon oiler, or "greaser," at 
twenty-five cents per day. luy first pay envelope consisted of $4.25, 
accepted in the form of a store order upon a company "pluck me" 
store. 1 spent the greater portion of it for a Christmas present for my 
sifter Mary. 

At odd hours, when not engaged at work of some kind, I hunted, 
fished, swam, boated, sledued, skated, boxed, played baseoall, rode and 
drove hordes, periormed on tne trapeze and horizontal bar — in short, 
I was a free-f rpm-care country boy, an all around country athlete, with 
a good knowledge of all tnat went to make me a companionable fellow 
among the boys, and oft-times the leader in such boyish doings as were 
dear to the hearts, and are to this day fondly cherished in the mem- 
ories of all wide awake, red blooded, country bred good fellows. 

I was not a fighter, but in the manner of the time of settling mis- 
understandings and questions of juvenile superiority, I never "took 
the count," although on one occasion, it must be recorded, 1 fought a 
draw by virtue of a good set of legs and a level road leading home- 
ward; a scared boy in the lead at the finish, a badly beaten up boy 
with a big club a good second. The argument was renewed the next 
day, without the club, and I was returned the winner without a 
scratch. 

I could write volumes in connection with my boyhood experiences, 
pleasures, hopes, mishaps and, to be strictly confiding — my misdeeds. 
But as this narrative is intended more as a history than a confession, 
I may be pardoned if I refrain from detailing the latter. Suffice it to 
say that I was not wild, ungovernable or lazy. I was always ready to 
do my part at work or sport, although I preferred the latter. Boy 
like, I sometimes took long chances of inciting paternal displeasure, 
when there was work to be done, to participate in a game of baseball, 
a fishing scrape, a hunting jaunt or a swimming match. On two occa- 
sions I came in forceful contact with my father's just manner of 
enforcing discipline, and on one other occasion I received the wrong 
end of a decision in an argument with my school teacher over a small 
infraction of the rules which, it must be said, in justice to myself, I 
had unfortunately misinterpreted. These misplays taught me to 
memorize the rules of a game, weigh the probability of detected vio- 
lation and the character of the penalty, after which I got along with- 
out further humiliation. 



An Autobiography 17 

Svening on the Farm 

The summer sun has sunk to rest, 
The dove has flitted to her nest ; 

'Tis evening. 
The firefly gyrates tnrough the air, 
Shows fitful ilasttes here and there, 
Just comes and goes, nor seems to care 
Who watch his lazy movements there; 

'Tis evening. 

The cricket chirps beneath the door, 
The Whip-poor-will sings out her lore; 

'Tis evening. 
The faithful watch dog sniffs around, 
His trusty nose close to the ground 
Where scent of prowlers might abound — 
Seems satisfied when none is found; 

'Tis evening. 

The lambs are housed within the fold, 
The chicks are safe from Reynard, bold; 

'Tis evening. 
The horses to their stalls are led, 
The chores are done, the stock is fed, 
The cows are milked and gone to bed, 
And all is quiet in the shed; 

'Tis evening. 

The birds have closed their sleepy eyes, 
The owl looks forth in mild surprise ! 

'Tis evening. 
The twilight beats a quick retreat, 
And shadows lurk around our feet 
O'er nodding blooms of flowers sweet, 
As daylight and the darkness meet ; 

'Tis evening. 

The stars shine dimly overhead — 

The ev'ning prayers, good nights, are said : 

'Tis evening. 
A June time moon adorns the sky 
To light the darkness drawing nigh. 
And o'er the scene a love-lit eye 
Is safely guarding from on high ; 

'Tis evening 



1 8 Fifty Years' Recollections 



Hearts Atune 



(Dedicated to my life-long friend, Frank M. Dinsmore, whom I still cherish 
with the pure affection of youth matured by the passing years, grown golden as 
the twilight of life enriches me with a flood of tender memories of our happy 
boyhood days together.) 

Oft-times I wish that I might go 
Along the paths I used to know ; 
That I might amble in and out, 
And view the old nooks thereabout, 
Where two small tads were wont to roam 
Along the paths which led to home — 
And sometimes ran in other ways, 
Of which we dare not boast these days. 

That's just what I would love to do — 
Go back there to the chum I knew, 
Shake his good old right hand and say, 
"Come let us run along and play 
A game of scrub, if we can find 
Enough kids in that frame of mind, 
Or maybe, if it's all the same, 
We might frame up a reg'lar game." 

Then we might loll 'round in the shade 
The locust trees in the pasture made 
And watch the men play seven up, 
Or get the dogs, Old Guess and Pup, 
Old Top and Greely, Shep and Don, 
Up on the hill where paths lead on 
To haunts where rabbits might be found, 
And chase them seven miles around. 

Or we might tramp the old coal road 
Where many friends of youth abode 
In the old days — just you and I — 
Some happy day 'neath sunlit sky, 
Or have together one more swim, 
And strike out with the old time vim — 
That's what I'd love to do today, 
Above all else — just go and play. 



An Autobiography 19 



Could we but hike that road once more, 
Along Monongahela s shore, 
Romp through the meadows, jump the rills 
And climb old Pennsylvania's hills, 
Loll in every well known nook, 
Wade out into each old time brook — 
And all the old time stunts we'd try — 
Then you'd be glad, and so would I. 

We'd throw a line where catfish bite 
And maybe hunt for frogs at night. 
Or better still, we'd go and see 
Our boyhood sweethearts, you and me. 
Oh, could we but once more enjoy 
The old time dances. Come on, Boy ! 
And maybe see a scrap or two — 
But never, tad, 'twixt me and you. 

Or we might stroll along the ways 
Where love once led. Oh ! happy days ! 
When hearts were young and guileless, too. 
And all the world was shining through 
Half drooping eyes, whose flashes told 
Their secret of the story old, 
While hearts beat fast — we wandered on 
Along love's paths, in days agone. 

But times have changed and we've changed, too, 

We can't do as we used to do. 

We have our burdens and our cares 

Which creep upon us unawares. 

Yet oft-times when the shadows fall 

I dream of days beyond recall, 

And comfort take to feel, old friend, 

You're still my chum until the end. 

Now ponder well, a story's here, 
Half hidden in these words of cheer ; 
A story of one heart is told 
In homely phrase — like days of old. 
For underneath the fun and rhyme 
A heart speaks of the olden time, 
As hearts can speak, in word and sign, 
To hearts atune, old friend of mine. 



ao Fifty Years' Recollections 



CHAPTER III 

In July, 1878, my brother Robert was married at Bellevernon, Pa., 
to Miss Anna L. Krepps. They began housekeeping there. 

In December, 1880, my brother James was married at Pittsburgh, 
Pa., to Miss Martha Robeson. They took up their residence at our 
home until the following September, when they removed to Pitts- 
burgh, Pa. This reduced our little home circle to four — father, mother, 
my sister Mary and myself. 

Beginning September, 1881, 1 was absent from home in the winter 
montns, working in Pittsburgh, Pa., but spending the summer months 
at nome agisting my lather on the little larm as usual. 

Beginning the month of September, 1880, and ending December 
24, 18b5, it fell to my lot to be the financial mainstay of the family. 
Although my wages were not large during this period, we managed 
to live very comfortably and happily, and my great and only regret 
was that 1 was not able to do more for those I loved so dearly. Dur- 
ing three of those five years I worked with my brother James, whose 
patient, kindly disposition endeared him to my heart. 

September 15, 1880, 1 began my career as a window glass worker, 
at the works of R. C. Schertz and Company, Bellevernon, Pa. I began 
as a "snapper" for my brother William, in what was known as the 
second, D. S. place, at $9.00 per week. In 1881 1 was regularly appren- 
ticed, under the laws of Local Assembly No. 300, Knights of Labor, 
to learn the art of window glass gathering. My first Master Work- 
man was Robert Buckhannon, but I was later transferred to Andrew 
J. Leafgreen, under whom I finished my trade at Pittsburgh, Pa., in 
1882. 

In May, 1881, my brother William left Bellevernon to work at 
Pittsburgh for A. and D. H. Chambers Co., taking me with him. Then 
began my first city experience and boarding house education. There- 
after the word home to me was to mean largely the place where all 
my affections were centered around the loved ones there, and I had 
only the occasional enjoyment of their sweet companionship and 
society. The happy boyhood period of my life had passed ; I was there- 
after to assume life's burden of responsibility and care. Life was to 
be what I made it, and not what others had made it for me. The years 
to follow were to be as silent witnesses of things achieved or unaccom- 
plished. Failure or success was to be truthfully chronicled by the 
hand of time, 



An Autobiography 21 



But I was not a free lance ; I had duties to perform in the way of 
caring for others, father, mother and sister Mary, which I tried to do 
to the best of my ability and understanding. 

In the summer of 1885, that fateful year, my sister Mary, my 
lifelong playmate, companion and chum, was married at Fayette City, 
Pa., to Joseph E. Downer of Allenport, Pa. They took up their resi- 
dence at our home, remaining there until the home was broken up in 
the following December by the death of our dear mother. 

Through all these years of my youth, my boon companion, friend 
and helper was my sister Mary, who was four years my senior, my 
playmate and childhood chum. From my earliest recollection she 
loved me as it falls to the lot of few to be blessed with such adoring, 
unselfish sister love. I was her "Brother Jonathan" (her pet name) , 
and in her eyes, until God called her, I stood for all that was manly 
and true, her baby brother and her friend; and to me my sister 
"Mame," as I always called her, was, next to my mother, the one who 
was closest to my heart. No more loyal heart than hers will ever grace 
the blessed sanctity of God's loveland. I dearly adored my plavmate 
sister and while life shall last her memory shall be enshrined and 
cherished in my heart. Her death brought to me a most roignant 
grief, and sense of earthly loss that all the future years will scarcely 
lessen. 

My mother since my earliest recollection had not been in robust 
health, and as she advanced in years her phvs i# cal cond'tion became 
worse until in the earlv part of December, 1885, occurred her fatal 
illness. God called her home December 21st, 1885, at 1 :00 A. M. She 
passed away in the presence of all the immediate familv, excent my 
sister Kate who wa* then enroute from her home in Iowa, but v/ho 
arrived too late to bid her a la^t earthly goodbye. My mother's last 
words to her youngest bom were "My precious bov. if I couH only 
take you with me." Her last words on eaHh. testifying to her un- 
f altering: fa^th in Je*us Christ and her hallowed ho^e of entering the 
Kingdom of God. fell unon the listening ears of that little, s'lent. sor- 
rowing group of hor loved ones a^ an immortal benediction at the close 
of her patient, faithful, Christian life. a<* a svmhol of heaven, a token 
of redeemed promise, a message from God to those who caught her 
joyful dving whisper "Jesus, my Saviour and my Friend." 

No doubt, no fear, but a sweet "Peace that nasseth all understand- 
ing," the indisputable evidence of the blessed assurance of God's prom- 
ise redeemed. Since her sixteenth year she had been a follower of 
Christ, a member of the M. E. Church, a praving Christian. P^aver 
was her refuge in time of trouble, her iov in time of neace. P^aver 
was her life line, the cord of love and faith binding her immortal soul 
to the Eternal God. 



22 Fifty Years' Recollections 



ZMoth 



er 



"How tedious and tasteless the hours when Jesus no longer I see" 
(Mother's favorite hymn) 

As the sunshine and shadows of life linger on, 
Let me dream of my childhood — the dear days agone. 
Let me kneel as of old at my dear mother's knee, 
While the wealth of her love sweetly steals over me. 

With her hand on my head all my troubles would flee, 
As I lisped baby prayers that she taught to me. 
Let me listen once more, as in fancy I cling 
In her arms as of old, to the hymn she would sing. 

Ah, the hymn that she sang, in the dear days of old, 
Is entwined in my mem'ry with cordage of gold. 
How her dear voice would tremble as her soul outpoured 
Its belief in a rapture of praise to her Lord. 

Sing that hymn, sing it low; let the sweet music flow 
Through my heart in refrain to the days long ago. 
Sing it softly and slow, to its measure of love, 
'Till its harmony chimes with her anthem above. 



An Autobiography 23 



Four brothers, William, James, Robert and I, in the presence of 
that silent, sainted form, clasped hands and pledged ourselves to each 
other, and by her dear memory, to strive to meet her in heaven. 

We laid her to rest in the Belle vernon, Pa., cemetery on Wednes- 
day, December 23d. On the following day I left the old home place, 
the scene of my boyhood days and most tender memories, returning 
to Pittsburgh and thence to Quaker City, Ohio, where I resumed work 
at my trade with my brother Robert for the Quaker City Window 
Glass Co. There I spent the first and only year of my life in which I 
experienced the loneliness of a homeless existence, and which I trust 
I will never again be called upon to endure. True, I had previously 
spent many weeks and months away from home, but always in the 
knowledge that my home was there, with my loved ones waiting for 
me. Never before had I spent a continuous period to exceed three 
weeks, usually one or two, away from home, and my home goings were 
looked forward to and enjoyed beyond power of mine to express. I 
loved the old home and the dear ones the v e. I loved my old friends. 
Every nook and cranny of the "Old Home Place" was indelibly stamped 
upon my memory, and within my heart were pictured faces and scenes 
that went to make my life at that time a happy and contented one. But, 
through the workings of the eternal law of change, all was suddenly 
changed for me. The world lost its cheering asnect when I faced it 
without a home ; yet the good influences which had early been instilled 
into my being, by home ties and teachings, held fast. 

Very unfortunately, as I discovered later in life, my school days 
ended when I was but fourteen years of age, owing to an argument 
between the teacher and myself as to whether I should take up the 
study of geometry. I won the argument by not returning to school, 
which was unfortunately tolerated by my parents, much to my later 
regret and loss. I never had another opportunity to receive schooling 
except in the hard school of experience, which I am still attending. 

I am well satisfied that even two more years' schooling in the 
little old, frame school house, across the road by the side of the run, 
would have been of incalculable advantage to me and might have 
changed the whole course of my life. But for some reason the hand 
of fate beckoned me into fields of toil, where for many years I toiled 
like a galley slave, far beyond my strength of endurance, among a 
class of associates who in the main lived their lives differently from 
what my early teachings had been and for that reason were not help- 
ful to my aspirations, or stimulating to my ideals. Here and there a 
bright spot shines out along the trodden pathway in the form of an 
old friend, who understood me and whom I understood, not many of 
them, but just enough to make me feel that life, with its joys, vicissi- 
tudes and trials, was always worth the living. 



24 Fifty Years' Recollections 



£My ^vene 



The bygone days of the yester years, 

Let their shadows round me fall ; 

E'en through a veil of blinding tears, 

I would welcome their recall. 

Let me view the scenes of bygone days, 

And gaze on that love-lit sea, 

My soul alight with its wondrous rays, 

And the promise held for me. 

The happy days of my childhood years, 

Let me welcome the return 

Of your fairy tales and ghostly fears — 

Which most all children learn. 

Let me view again the old home place, 

As the shadows turn to gold, 

And gaze upon each dreamland face 

That I loved in days of old. 

The golden days of "Ye olden tymes," 

Let them pass me in review, 

And fill my heart with the olden rhymes 

Of the old time love so true. 

Let memory bring her richest store 

Of gifts, as I meditate ; 

The old time scngs, and the old love lore 

From the hidden caves of fate. 

The heyday dreams of the olden days, 

Let them gather from above, 

The tell-tale blush and the mystic haze 

Of the first faint dawn of love. 

Let heart beats tell of rapture themes, 

As the tide of life rolls on, 

Till I lose myself in happy dreams 

Of the joys of days agone. 



An Autobiography 25 



CHAPTER IV 

To regress a little, during the roller skate craze in 1884-5, which 
was widespread throughout the country, I learned the delightfully 
fatiguing art of roller skating and became quite proficient in the use 
of the treacherous little boxwood wheel invention, especially in the 
matter of speed. I became a somewhat prominent figure in racing 
circles, competing in races of one mile and upward, which in those 
days were witnessed by many thousands of people. Through roller 
skating I first met Miss Mollie L. Gue, of Pittsburgh, Pa., the little girl 
who was destined to link her fortunes with mine in the battle of life. 
I skated into matrimony, as it were, as follows : 

On "St. Patrick's Day in the morning," 1885, while training for a 
race in the Mammoth Skating Rink, on Carson Street, near 22nd 
Street, South Side, Pittsburgh, Pa., I approached under full speed two 
girls who were just ahead of me, when suddenly they went sprawling 
on the floor. I was very close to them and to avoid a bad collision was 
compelled to jump over the prostrate form of my future wife, which 
feat I accomplished without mishap. An introduction was later 
arranged through my room mate, Mr. Sebastian Klein, who enjoyed a 
skafc'ng acquaintance with this little lady. 

On the evening of April 3, following, at the "Mammoth Rink," I 
saw Mr. Klein approaching me, accompanied by a most winsome little 
brown eyed girl. Immediately something seemed to say to me "There 
comes your future wife." That seemed at the time very strange to 
me, for reasons which need not be mentioned here. I could never 
account for it, but from the moment I first looked upon her face I felt 
deep down in my heart that we were never to separate while life lasted. 

We were married on the fifty-first anniversary of my parents' 
wed 'liner. December 28, 1886, at the residence of my wife's parents, Mr. 
Robert W. and Annie M. Gue, No. 2321 Fox Street, Pittsburgh, Pa., 
in the presence of the immediate family, Rev. W. L. Roberts officiating. 
The only invited guests were Mr. Harry C. Atherton and Miss Ella 
Cotton, who acted as groomsman and bridesmaid. 

The hour selected was 6:00 P. M., in commemoration of the hour 
of my parents' marriage fifty-one years before. 

On the following evening we left for Quaker City, Ohio, where we 
expected to make our future home, but as it proved, our residence 
there was only temporary, for on March 16, 1887, we returned to Pitts- 
burgh, where I had accerted the "big ring" with Cunningham & Com- 
pany. Yielding to the wishes of my wife's parents, we made our home 



26 Fifty Years Recollections 

with them until November, 1887, when we went to housekeeping at 
No. 2314 Carson Street, South Side, where we were blessed with our 
first-born and only son. He was born July 28, 1888, at 7 :30 P. M., and 
was christened Paul Arthur. Our cup of happiness was near to over- 
flowing, life seemed to have opened to us in all its glorious realization 
of happiness and promise of fulfillment of future joy and usefulness. 

We could not anticipate, neither did we fear, the trials and 
struggles that we were naturally destined to encounter. We were so 
proudly fond of our beautiful baby boy that the responsibilities of the 
future were dreamed of as joys yet unarrived. 

In 1883, having finished my apprenticeship as a window glass 
gatherer, I became a member of L. A. 300, K. of L., Window Glass 
Workers' Association, being initiated in the Odd Fellows' Hall, 17th 
Street, South Side, Pittsburgh, Pa. 

In 1887 I began my official career in that organization by appoint- 
ment to the executive council by President James Campbell. I also 
became chairman of the finance committee, and during that year I was 
elected a member of the western wage committee, later being made 
secretary of that committee. I served in those official positions until 
January 1, 1889, when I resigned, having accepted a position at Belle- 
vernon. Pa., where I remained until the following July. Until Mav 1, 
1889, 1 had followed the trade of window gla^s gathering, having filled 
some very good places, among them several "big rings," or extra 
heavy places, but at that time I decided to besin blowing at Belle- 
vernon, Pa., finishing the fire, or season, blowing a half pot with 
Arthur Lorioux. 

In July, I hired with James Collins, better known as "Uncle 
Jimmy," to blow a single strength place at Celina, Ohio, a new factory 
which was scheduled to begin operations September 1, 1889. I left 
Pittsburgh for the west, as I then termed it, August 28, but found 
upon my arrival at Celina that "Uncle Jimmy" had met with a fatal 
accident only a few days previous, and that my brother Robert, who 
had gone to Ceh'na to temporarily share my place, had secured the 
management of the company and that I would work under him. My 
brother gave me every opportunity to advance, assisting me in every 
possible way, and to his brotherly interest and assistance at that time 
I owe much of my later success as a workman. In three weeks after 
starting I was successfully filling the second double strength place, 
which in those davs made all the extra long narrow glass, and was 
earning over $200 00 per month, which was a figure reached by only 
a few blowers in those days. 

We moved to Celina in October, 1889, residing? there very hanpily 
for two years. During our residence there my wife and I united with 



An Autobiography 27 



the M. E. Church (1890) and Paul was baptized in the M. E. Church 
there, at the same time, by the Rev. Seamans. 

In the month of May, 1891, 1 began work at Dunkirk, Ind., for the 
Gem Window Glass Works, removing from Celina, Ohio, to Dunkirk, 
Ind., the following October. I blowed the second double strength 
place there. 

On July 16, 1892, while attending the Annual Convention of Win- 
dow Glass Workers, L. A. 300, K. of L., held at Turner Hall, Pitts- 
burgh, Pa., as a delegate from Dunkirk, Ind., I was stricken with ap- 
pendicitis, suffering from recurring attacks which incapacitated me 
from following my trade for two and one-half years. This was a bad 
blow to me financially, and was the beginning of years of a struggle 
for existence against the twin monsters debt and worry, which almost 
ruined my future. 

My brother James, who had been ill for some time, following an 
attack of grip, died of tuberculosis, on December 23, 1892, at Fayette 
City, Pa., where he had resided since disposing of the old home at 
Naomi. 

The closing scenes of his life evidenced his increasing faith in 
the Lord, and his satisfied belief that his departure was but a transi- 
tion from a world of care and suffering into the Kingdom of God. 

One of the four brothers who had entered into the compact at 
the bedside of our sainted mother, "to strive to meet her in heaven," 
had gone to her. His was a patient, generous, noble character. I 
have always likened him unto Abraham Lincoln because of his kindly 
spirit, his absolute integrity, his sense of honor and justice, and his 
charity for the frailties of others. 

Quiet and unassuming in speech and manner, with a helping hand 
to the needy, a word of cheer to the distressed, a smiling forgiveness 
for the offender, he was "a gentleman to the manor born." His 
friends were legion, his enemies few. He was laid beside his people 
in the Bellevernon, Pa., cemetery. 

July 1, 1894, at the Good Samaritan Hospital, Cincinnati, Ohio, 
I underwent an operation for appendicitis. This was performed by 
Dr. Joseph Ransahoff, and was successful, but owing to improper 
nourishing, peritonitis set in and my recovery was doubtful and slow. 
After five weeks and three days in the hospital, I was brought home 
on a cot to die, but my work was not finished, the Lord had greater 
things for me to accomplish, I recovered, but was physically unable 
to resume work at my trade until November, 1894. 

Through these years of illness and suffering I was attended by 
Dr. J. B. Garber, Dunkirk, Ind., who was mv faithful friend, as well 
as physician, and to whose diagnosis and skill as a practitioner I have 



28 Fifty Years Recollections 

always felt I owed my life at that time. His death in October, 1913, 
the result of an injury sustained in an automobile accident, brought a 
great sorrow to my heart. His noble character, and friendly devotion 
to me, endeared him to my heart and enshrined him in my memory 
as one having followed in His footsteps who said, "Even as you did 
it unto the least of one of these, ye did it unto me." 



James Whitcomb ^ley 

Dear old Riley, dear old Jim, 
Always thought a lot of him. 
Always loved to read his rhymes 
In the olden, golden times — 
Long before the world took note 
Of the poems that he wrote — 
I just loved him for the way 
He said things he had to say. 

His was mind of purest gold ! 
And the stories that he told 
Found the mark — these things he said — 
Like a message from the dead ; 
While his tender, homely style 
Gripped the heart and made it smile 
With its warmth of love for him. 
Dear old Riley, dear old Jim. 

Angels whisper up above 
Stories of his tender love 
For the little children who, 
Just as wee ones like to do, 
Used to climb upon his knee, 
Close as ever they could be, 
And as sleepy eyes grew dim 
Smiled and whispered, "Uncle Jim." 

Grown up children loved him, too, 
For the soul which ran so true 
Back to childhood and the t'mes 
That he told of in his rhymes. 
Nature smiled within his heart 
'Till his soul became a part 
Of a grand celestial hymn, 
Dear old Riley, dear old Jim. 



An Autobiography 29 



CHAPTER V 

July 31, 1897, while living in what was known as the "Ruth" 
property on East Yvaonmgton btreet, Dunkirk, lna., we were again 
blessed witn tne joy 01 a new baby in our home, a little daugnter. tthe 
was corn at 3:o0 o'clock A. lvi., a most welcome guest, occupying a 
long unnlieci mche in our little nome circle and in our waiting nearts. 
Vve now had a daughter, Paul had a sister, and our joy was unconlined 
in tne new lease ol hfe and happmess that embraced us. We christened 
her belma, and from the day oi her birth, as in the case of our first- 
born, we nave had reason to continually thank God for tne great bless- 
ing of her existence. 

Paul was then nine years old, a manly, sturdy, upright little 
fellow, immensely proud and fond of his little sister. I might write 
pages of interesting history relating to their early childhood days, 
but suffice it to say that no wrong act of theirs ever caused us a heart- 
ache or a tear. This tribute is due them, and, with pardonable pride, 
I here tender it from a heart filled with love and devotion. 

Beginning when Selma was two years old, we spent several sum- 
mers at Douglas Lake, Northern Michigan, where we at that time 
owned a cottage, a boat and other necessaries that went to make a 
full equipment for the enjoyment of an "Indian life" among the pines 
in the summer season. 

Our chief purpose in these outings was to escape the annual 
attacks of hay fever from which both Paul and I severely suffered. 

Weather permitting, we fished almost constantly and became very 
familiar with the habits of the elusive pickerel, or grass pike, black 
baoS and other species of the finny tribe with which this delightful 
lake abounded and also quite successful in landing many of the finest 
specimens ever taken from those waters. Catches of four, five and 
six-pound pickerel were common every day occurrences. At eleven 
years of age Paul had caught eight and nine pounders, and at one 
time succeeded in landing, alone and unaided, a ten pound pickerel. 
My wife also became quite an adept in the art of angling, and landed 
many fine, large fish. 

In August, 1902, I made a catch of eight pickerel, weighing fifty- 
eight and one-half pounds, in two and one-half hours. That was con- 
ceded to be the largest catch ever made by a single fisherman in the 
history of Lake Douglas. One of these monsters weighed fourteen 
and one-half pounds, while the four largest aggregated forty pounds ; 



30 Fifty Years Recollections 



the latter I sent to my friends at Dunkirk, Ind., some of whom had 
previously doubted certain fish tales emanating from Lake Douglas. 
Many laughable, and some quite exciting experiences marked 
those enjoyable northern sojourns, and in looking back over those 
happy summers, I can now realize that they were the hey-days of our 
married life, and it was with great regret that I later yielded to the 
call of the window glass workers to assume official responsibilities, 
knowing that such would necessitate a discontinuance of these pleas- 
urable summer outings. 



Fishin' Tales 



Just a wishing and a wishin' 
That we was out a fishin' — 
Out a fishin' where the air 

Is soft and cool; 
Just a wishin' we was fishin' 
Where the water's all a swishin' — 
All a swishin' round about 

The old trout pool. 

Just a dreamin', and a dreamin' 
That the sunlight's a streamin' — 
Softly streamin' through the pines 

So tall and cool ; 
Just a dreamin', and a seemin' 
To see the water teemin' — 
All a teemin' with the fish 

In that old pool. 

Just a dyin', and a dyin' 
To do some tall old lyin' — 
Tall old lyin' 'bout the fish 

That we have caught. 
Just a lyin', without tryin', 
And all the time a sighin' 
For a dozen speckled beauts 

Like those we bought. 



An Autobiography 31 



I worked at the Gem Window Glass Works from 1891 until 1900, 
when 1 ieit to blow tlie "big ring" at Wilkinson, lnd., but we did not 
move there, in September, 1^01, 1 began work at the Enterprise, 
Dunkirk, md., where i remained until caned to omcial duty as an officer 
of tne window glass workers in lb04. 

I became a member of the Knights of Pythias, Dunkirk, lnd., 
Lodge iNo. 55b, in lb a I. in 16^2 i took my nr^t degree in masonry, 
Luc uwmg to nmess and otner unavoidable circumstances it was sev- 
eral years later, june btn, li>00, tnat 1 became a master IVia-ion m tnat 
louge, ana in Ib>±4 1 dmntted to iris Lodge iNo. 22y, Cleveland, O. In 
Ibvt 1 oecame a memoer 01 tne ikodern Vvoodmen of America, iNorth- 
cott Camp INO. 541b, at Dunkirk, ind., in 1905. 

I became a member of the Independent Order of Odd Fellows, 
Lodge INo. 2v5, at Dunkirk, lnd., in li>04. 

In 1915 I became a member of Woodward Lodge No. 181, Cleve- 
land, O., by taking tne cnapter degrees in Masonry. 

I never was a member of any other secret society, except the 
American iYj.ecnanics, which I joined in Pittsburgh when quite a young 
man, but soon withdrew irom membership upon learning of its bitter 
antagonism to a certain religious belief. 

In May, 1902, 1 was elected a member of the city council, Dunkirk, 
lnd., on the Republican ticket, serving a two-year term. 

The month of May, 1904, marked the closing of my career as a 
window glass blower. After twenty-four years on the bench, barring 
the years of my illness previously alluded to, 1 left the trade for good 
— as subsequent events proved. 

During the greater part of this period I had taken an active part 
in labor matters pertaining to L. A. 300, K. of L., having served in 
many official capacities. 1 was elected Assistant Secretary of that 
organization in lb96, but owing to internal troubles then brewing I re- 
signed the position and returned to work at my trade in Dunkirk, Ind. 

I was a delegate to the Blowers and Gatherers' Convention held 
at Cleveland, Ohio, July, 1897, was elected Chairman and presided over 
the deliberations of that body. I had previously attended several 
other conventions, and had become a somewhat prominent figure in 
labor matters, as well as having become somewhat of an embryo poli- 
tician. 

In May, 1904, I was slated for the Republican nomination, which 
was at that time equivalent to an election, as representative of Jay 
County, Ind., in the State Legislature, which I declined owing to the 
call from the glass workers which, it was then apparent, was soon to 
be made upon my services. 



32 Fifty Years Recollections 

In July, 1904, I was appointed Assistant Secretary and Reading 
Clerk of tne glass workers convention held at Cleveland, Ohio, by the 
United Window Glass Workers, which at that convention was consoli- 
dated with the Window Glass Workers of America. 

The organization so formed was named the Amalgamated Window 
Glass Workers of America. At that convention I wa3 elected a mem- 
ber of the executive board, representing the blowers' trade. My elec- 
tion to that office marked the severance of my connection with the 
trade as a workman, and from that time until July 6, 1909, my entire 
time and energy was devoted to the advancement of the interests of 
the window glass workers. 

At that time, owing to internal dissension, open rebellion, the 
forming of rival organizations and the general demoralization incident 
to the advent of window glass makmg machines, operated by The 
American Window Glass Company, the entire industry was in a tur- 
moil bordering upon annihilation of the hand portion of that industry. 
This condition continued to intensify as the season of 04-05 advanced 
until on January 29, 1905, 1 was called to the Presidency of the organi- 
zation, through an election by the executive board, to succeed Wm. S. 
Phillips, resigned, and assumed the duties of my office February 11, 
1905. The action of the executive board was immediately ratified by 
a referendum vote of the members of the organization. 

The captaincy of a disabled ship rolling upon a storm tossed sea 
is an unenviable position to say the least, and I felt the strain of this 
great responsibility more than I dared to admit, even to myself, but I 
also realized that someone had to do this woik, and resolved that it 
would be done to the very best of my ability. 

At the annual convention held in Chamber of Commerce Hall, 
Cleveland, Ohio, July, 1905, I was re-elected on the first ballot for the 
ensuing yearly term of office. 

I moved my family to Cleveland, October 16th of that year. 

At the annual convention held in Germania Hall, Cleveland, Ohio, 
July, 1906, 1 was re-elected by acclamation, the first time in the history 
of any window glass workers' organization that the President was 
honored by election without opposition. That was due in part to the 
fact that I had succeeded during the preceding Fall in securing an 
advance in wages ranging from 8% to 15% for the four trades, in the 
face of most discouraging conditions. 

In the Fall settlement of wages in 1906 I secured an additional 
advance of 10%, and in the following conventon held at Detroit, Mich., 
July, 1907, I was again re-elected on the first ballot by a decided 
majority. 



An Autobiography 33 



August 28, 1906, I received a telegram announcing the sudden 
death 01 my sister, lvxary, at Ailenport, Fa., wnicn had occurred tne 
nignt before. This was a great shock to me. 1 had not been informed 
of ner illness, and the blow seemed almost greater than i could bear. 
I have never fully recovered irom the great grief that entered my life 
upon tne receipt of tnat telegram. Tne loss 01 my cmldnood chum, the 
friend of my young mannood, wno had watched with joyous pride my 
every auvancemtnt in life s battle, wnom 1 nad most dearly loved 
all tne days 01 my life, even better than 1 knew, was almost oeyond 
endurance. Even as i write, the tears unbidden flow from a heart tnat 
will always enshrine, in t ondeot love and reverence, the memory of her 
love and devotion. 

She died as she had lived, a Christian, unwavering in her faith 
in Chriot and tne promise of Eternal lite in His Kingdom. "We laid 
her to rest in the Jtfeilevernon, Pa., Cemetery, close beside the loved 
ones who had gone before. 

My father passed away at the home of my sister, Kate F. Porter, 
Ottumwa, iowa, December Z4, 1906, after a lingering illness, the result 
of nis aavanced age. His hfe was an open book. Mo shaft of earthly 
criticism or suspicion had ever touched his honor or integrity. His 
was an honest, fearless life, filled with a most wonderful faith in the 
life to come. No greater heritage left any man who ever trod the 
earth than was bequeathed by my father to his posterity ; a record of 
ninety years of a spotless, upright life in the eyes of the God of our 
fatheis. He died as he had lived, a high minded, noble man, welcom- 
ing not death, but eternal life through the divine promise "That who- 
soever believeth in him should not perish, but have eternal life !" 

We laid him to rest beside our mother, his life companion, and 
helpmeet, at Bellevernon, Pa., Dec. 28, 1906, on the seventy-first anni- 
versary of their wedding. 

The following hymn was my father's favorite selection, written 
by an old Methodist minister. I have heard my father sing thii hymn 
many times, but never could sing it through, myself, even to this day. 



34 Fifty Years Recollections 

0! Hallowed Spot 

(Father's favorite hymn) 



There is a spot to me more dear 

Than native vale or mountain ; 
A spot for which affection's tear 

Springs grateful from its fountain ; 
'Tis not where kindred souls abound, 

Though that were almost heaven ; 
'Tis where I first my Saviour found, 

And felt my sins forgiven. 

Hard was my toil to reach the shore, 

Long tossed upon life's ocean. 
Above me was the thunder's roar ; 

Beneath, the wave's commotion. 
Thickly the pall of night was thrown 

About me, faint with terror ; 
In that dark hour, how did my moan 

Ascend for years of error. 

Sinking, and panting as for breath, 

I knew not help was near me ; 
I cried "0, Save me Lord, from death, 

Immortal Jesus, hear me ;" 
Then quick as thought 1 knew Him near ; 

My Saviour stood before me ; 
I saw His brightness 'round me shine 

And shouted "Glory, Glory!" 

0, sacred hour, 0, hallowed spot, 

Where love divine first found me — 
Where 'ere shall be my distant lot, 

My heart shall linger 'round thee. 
And when from earth I rise to soar 

Up to my home in heaven, 
Down will I cast my eyes once more 

To where I was first forgiven. 



— Rev. James. Sansom. 



An Autobiography 35 



Pennsylvania, State O'Mine 

qA Song 

There's a spot dear to me that's enshrined in my heart 
Like a haven of rest from the world far apart ; 
'Twas the scene of the birth of my parents, who lie 
Sleeping peacefully there 'neath the blue of the sky. 



Chorus 

Pennsylvania, I love thee ! 
Keystone state of liberty ! 
Millions love thy vales and hills, 
Woodlands, meadows, streams and rills. 
Hail the grandeur of thy name ! 
Hail the glory of thy fame ! 
Life and love 'round thee entwine, 
Pennsylvania, State o'mine. 



It was there that I first saw the sweet dawn of day ; 
There my dear, sainted mother first taught me to pray. 
Every song in my soul thou hast given to me, 
And each throb of my heart pays fond homage to thee. 



36 Fifty Years' Recollections 



Shining &yes 

A Song 

Written for my granddaughter 

Pauline Arthea Faulkner 



In a virgin forest dell, where a laughing streamlet flows, 
Where the wildwood blossoms dwell and the gentle zephyr blows ; 
In a wigwam 'neath the trees, where the flowers never fade, 
In a spot no paleface sees, lives my little Indian Maid, 



Chorus 

As the night-birds softly call, sweetly as the by-lo-bye's, 
Softly as the moon beams fall, gentle as the lullabys, 
Whispering to me of all love's divine and tender ties, — 
Then I hear your dear voice call — calling, calling, Shining Eyes ! 



Summer day and sun kissed sky, music of the birds and bees, 
Flitting of the butterfly, sighing of the gentle breeze ; 
Love-lit eyes that shine for me, voice so soft and heart so true, 
Queen of all the forest free, Shining Eyes I love but you. 



An Autobiography 37 



CHAPTER VI 

January 9, 1908, The Amalgamated Window Glass Workers of 
America, of which I was president, was dissolved by a decision of 
Judge Phillips in the Common Pleas Court, Cuyahoga County, Cleve- 
land, Ohio, as being "in restraint of trade" and "opposed to public 
policy." The suit was brought by enemies of the organization under 
the "Valentine Act" of the State of Ohio. 

Immediately following the decision of the court I called a meet- 
ing of the old officers, and some of the members who happened to be 
in the city, and formed a new temporary organization known as the 
National Window Glass Workers. I was elected president of the 
temporary organization. Here occurred one of the most remarkable 
feats recorded in the history of organized labor. 

Anticipating the dissolution of the "Amalgamated," which would 
mean the entire loss of the funds at our command, I had previously 
cabled Edmond Gilles, President of the Belgian Window Glass 
Workers' Association, Lodelinsart, Belgium, for financial assistance. 
He immediately responded by cabling $6,000 which was deposited to 
my credit in The Bank of Commerce, National Association, Cleveland, 
Ohio. 

In twenty-four hours after the temporary organization was 
effected I had twenty-eight officers and members on the road, and in 
the remarkably short time of eight days it was completed, embracing 
every local lodge and member formerly attached to the old organiza- 
tion from Wilmington, Del., to Stockton, Cal. The temporary organi- 
zation was then made permanent by a vote of its members, who also 
indorsed the election of all temporary officers. At the following 
annual election of officers I was again elected president by a referen- 
dum vote of the members, my term of office expiring July 6, 1909, at 
which time I severed my official connection with the organization. 

Owing to changes in our laws and the dissolution of the "Amalga- 
mated," I had been elected President seven times in five years, twice 
by the executive board, twice by a referendum vote of the members, 
and three times by the delegates in annual convention assembled, 
without opposition on one occasion, retiring undefeated against the 
will, but with the best wishes, of a majority of the members, all of 
whom I had faithfully served to the best of my ability, giving to their 
cause five of the best years of my life. 



38 Fifty Years' Recollections 

In the month of July, 1908, I was selected to represent, as its 
president, The National Window Glass Workers of America, at the 
International Glass Workers' Convention of the World, held at Paris, 
France, beginning August 28, 1208. 

To fully describe my experiences and sensations during my Euro- 
pean trip would require more time and space than is necessary, and 
for that reason I shall confine myself to a brief mention of the most 
notable places visited, sights seen and experiences encountered during 
this most delightful journey. 

In company with Secretary C. L. Tarr, I sailed from New York 
for Liverpool, England, Wednesday, August 12, on the Cunard Line 
S S "Mauretania," arriving at Liverpool after a most delightful voy- 
age, Tuesday, August 18. We arrived in London the following day, 
visiting the Franco-British Exposition that afternoon. Leaving Lon- 
don August 21, we went to Paris, via New Haven and Dieppe, arriving 
there at 7:00 P. M., where we remained sight seeing until Sunday, 
August 23, when we left for Charleroi, Belgium, thence to Lodelinsart 
where we were the guests of Mr. Edmond Gilles, President of the 
Belgian Glass Workers' Association. From there we went to Brussels, 
vi iting the principal points of interest in the Belgian capital, where 
"There was a sound of revelry by night and Belgium's capital had 
gathered there her beauty and her chivalry," including Leopold's 
Monument, the Palace of Justice, L'Eglise Ste. Guiduie, and the Collone 
du Congress. We spent an afternoon viewing the historical battle- 
field at "Waterloo" where stands the great "Lion's Head" which sym- 
bolizes the fall of Napoleon, and also marks the end of French 
aggrandizement. 

From Brussels we returned to Paris where we remained several 
days viewing the fascinating sights in that beautiful, gay metropolis. 
We visited the Eiffel Tower twice, ascend 'ng to the top of that thou- 
sand-foot steel structure on each occasion, where with the aid of 
powerful binoculars, we were enabled to enjoy a magnificent view of 
the city as it lay spread beneath us in all its grandeur, the most 
beautiful city in all the world. We visited Notre Dame, the Palace 
of Justice, the Louvre, Palace Bastile, the River Seine, Champs-Ely sees 
and other points of interest. At the "Les Invalides" I saw the most 
sublimely beautiful sight my eyes had ever beheld, the sepulcher 
and surroundings of the last resting place of France's greatest soldier 
and emperor, Napoleon Bonaparte. 

Returning to London via Calias and Dover, September 1, we 
crossed the English Channel in a terrific storm, arriving in London 
at 12:30 A. M., September 2. Here we visited London Tower and 
viewed the wonderful historical sights, including the magnificent 



An Autobiography 39 



crown jewels of England. Taxi cabs and rubber wagons carried us 
all over dear "oP Lunnon," the largest city in the world, seeing the 
sights along the Thames, London Bridge, Piccadilly, Pall Mall, Regent 
Street, Fleet Street, Hyde Park, St. Paul's Cathedral, the Bank of 
England, Trafalgar Square, British Museum, The Strand, Cheapside, 
and numerous other points of interest in that great city. 

We left London September 3, leaving from King's Cross Station 
at 9 :30 A. M. on the Great Northern Express, arriving at Edinburgh, 
Scotland, at 6 :30 P. M. On this trip, along the east coast of Scotland, 
we viewed the most delightful scenery of the entire journey. I was 
now in the land of my ancestors, the first one of the name who had 
visited there since the migration of our forefathers from Scotland 
and Ireland more than a century before, and my thoughts frequently 
reverted to them as in fancy I could see them, honest, God fearing 
people, tilling the soil for their daily bread, building for the coming 
generations yet unborn. 

My heart seemed to uncannily yearn for those whom I had never 
seen, who once had lived and trod the good old Scotch and Irish soil. 
I realized then how small is a human life, and how short the span of 
years from generation to generation, as compared with the everlasting 
works of the Creator. In Scotland we visited many notable places of 
interest, including the Scottish National Exposition, saw Edinburgh 
Castle, Sir Walter Scott's Tomb, the great Firth of Forth Bridge, 
Tron Church where "Annie Laurie" was married, St. Giles' Church, 
Holyroad Palace, etc. We left Edinburgh, going via Glasgow across 
the Irish Sea, to the Emerald Isle, arriving at Belfast, Ireland, Sep- 
tember 5, at 11:30 P. M., visited City Hall, Queen's Bridge and Castle 
Place, remaining there until the following day, when we went by train 
to Dublin, arriving there at 6:00 P. M. In Dublin we spent three days 
sight seeing, visiting Dublin Castle, the Bark of Ireland, *St. Patrick's 
Cathedral, Trinity College and the National Library. 

From Dublin we went to Killarney, "The beautiful Lakes Killar- 
ney," thence to Cork, arriving there September 8, at 2:00 P. M. Visit- 
ing Blarney Castle, we climbed to its highest ledge and viewed the 
Irish landscape o'er. I assisted in lowering others, including Mr. 
Tarr, down head first to kiss the "Blarney Stone," but I positively re- 
fused, as I then stated it "To kiss an uncleansed stone that a million 
red mouthed Irish had slobbered over for six hundred years." I meant 
no disrespect to my ancestors, but was strongly opposed to the foolish 
old custom of kissing the Blarney Stone. 

We spent several days in Cork and saw many interesting sights 
in this old city. Among them the Church of St. Anne, where we 
listened to "The bells of Shandon, which sound so grand on the River 



4-0 Fifty Years' Recollections 

Lee," St. Mary's Cathedral, St. Patrick's Cathedral, St. Patrick's 
Bridge, St. Finbarr's Castle, and viewed the sights along the beautiful 
River Lee. 

We left Cork September 12 for Queenstown, there to await the 
arrival of the steamer homeward bound. During our journey through 
Ireland, I had been impressed by the number of soldiers, priests and 
poor people. Everywhere were the evidences of sleek priests, lazy, 
pompous soldiers, and poverty stricken humanity. Situated on the 
highest hill overlooking the beautiful harbor at Queenstown, stands 
the magnificent St. Colman's Cathedral, costing millions of dollars. 
Just after daybreak of the morning we sailed for New York, on the 
single lengthwise street of Queenstown, in the very shadow of this 
great costly cathedral, I was accosted by an aged, barefoot, bare- 
headed, rag-clad woman, weakened by hunger, shivering in the cold 
frosty morning, for "Only a penny to buy a cup of hot tea." All of 
my being was aroused in sympathy for the landlord-oppressed, over- 
taxed, underfed and half-clad, soldier-menaced, priest-ridden Irish 
peasantry. I said to Mr. Tarr, just what was in my heart, "Over the 
entrance to yon magnificent structure, should be placed this inscrip- 
tion, 'Erected from the proceeds of honest Irish toil, dishonestly col- 
lected.' " Poor old Ireland ! Yet poorer still the Irish peasantry, mill 
and factory workers, fishermen and all who toil for an honest living. 
But despite their poverty, which is not so evident to them, perhaps, 
as to the observing visitor, they are apparently happy, good natured 
people; lightning witted, quick to resent an injury or to appreciate a 
kindness ; always ready for work, frolic or fight, they are keenly alive, 
a good, true, tender hearted people whose past and present privations 
and errors may rightly be attributed to ignorance through lack of 
educational advantages and a surfeit of priestly misguidance. Not 
that I would criticize their form of religion, but the manner of its 
inculcation among the poorly enlightened masses of the people invites 
the honest criticism of the observer who is not too religiously set in 
his beliefs to have at heart the best interests of his fellow men. 
Whether they be Protestant or Catholic, greater educational advan- 
tages, more welfare work, better opportunity to advance their material 
uplift and happiness would be more conducive to their physical and 
mental development than the present too apparent restrictions which 
are thrown around them by the present day religious endeavors. 



An Autobiography 41 



Halloween 

(Nineteen-Nineteen) 



'Twas a Hallowe'en party and, begorra, McCarty, 
'Twas the dryest old layout that ever I've seen ! 
Not a drop of the crayther to boost the palaver, 
Not a gossoon or colleen could honor the green. 

There was music and dancin', cavortin' and prancin', 
Around and around in the shimmerin' sheen. 
I eyed some of 'em sparkin', and some were skylarkin', 
Around wid their sweethearts outside on the green. 

As I peeked through the windy, right into the shindy— 
It made me two eyes wape to see it, be gob — 
Not a ghost there was walkin', not one of 'em stalkin', 
Nary witch, nor a kittle, was there on the job. 

Faith, I never was thinkin' of a party where drinkin', 
Tobacco, shillalah's and fightin' was barred 
On a night when the goblin was due to be hobblin', 
And that's why, McCarty, I'm wooin' the bard. 



42 Fifty Y ears Recollections 



CHAPTER VII 

We left Queenstown for New York on the SS. "Mauretania" on 
Sunday, September 13, 1908, on her thirteenth voyage across the 
Atlantic. Rough weather was experienced almost from the time we 
left the beautiful harbor at Queenstown, but nothing of particular 
note occurred until the 17th instant, when we ran into a West India 
hurricane about 9:00 A. M. 

On that day at noon the velocity of the wind was recorded at one 
hundred and two miles an hour. The magnificence of that storm was 
simply indescribable. The roaring of the wind, the hills of wild water, 
rearing their mighty crests higher than the ship's masts, was terrify- 
ing. The ocean appeared as a boiling cauldron. Mighty waves rushing 
together, throwing great columns of water more than a hundred feet 
toward the flying clouds, could be seen, when anything could be seen 
at all for the flying scud. It was a sight never to be forgotten. 

The sickening roll of the steamer, the largest boat afloat, was 
terrifying to the timid passengers, and of much concern to the more 
experienced voyagers and crew alike. 

We were racing along with the wind, under full headway, at a 
tremendous speed, far ahead of the schedule and due to break the 
trans-Atlantic record from Queenstown to New York, when the 
unexpected happened. 

At 12:10 P. M., just after the first call had sounded for dinner, 
when about three hundred and fifty miles off Sandy Hook, the ship 
sustained a violent shock, staggered and trembled as if she had struck 
a submerged rock or had collided with some passing vessel. Following 
the shock a great vibration ensued throughout the boat, adding to the 
confusion and terror among the passengers, which for a time threat- 
ened to culminate in a panic on board. 

When a semblance of order was finally restored, we were informed 
that one of the high speed propeller shafts had suddenly snapped, 
causing the loss of the propeller, and that the great vibration was 
caused by the racing of the big turbine engine driving that propeller, 
which was one of four used in driving the great ship, each engine 
driving a separate propeller. 

The engines were stopped while the engine room was being cleared 
of the wreckage of the big engine, the boat losing stearing headway 
and bringing up broadside to wind and wave in what has passed into 
history as the worst storm known on the North Atlantic in thirty- 
seven years. 



An Autobiography 43 



I have witnessed the vicious, terrifying electric storms peculiar to 
the North American continent; I have seen the deadly cyclone in its 
fury, but in the twenty minutes that the "Mauretania" drifted in that 
fearful hurricane, my eyes beheld such a battle between wind and wave 
and ship, that paled my wildest youthful nightmares into insignifi- 
cance. It was the experience of a lifetime, never to be forgotten, and 
which I hope I shall never again be compelled to endure. 

It developed that the huge propeller had crashed into the stern of 
the ship, making a great jagged hole in the steel plates of her hull 
below the water line, also that the great vibration following the 
accident had opened many riveted seams in the steel plated hull, and 
that the ship was leaking badly. 

The wreckage in the engine room was finally cleared away, the 
engines and pumps were started, and the ship crawled into port at 
New York forty-eight hours later, reaching her dock at noon, Septem- 
ber 19, much to the relief of the scared, nerve-racked passengers. 

That the ship was badly injured was evidenced by the fact that 
she returned to Europe, without passengers or mail, and was in the 
dry dock at Clyde for four months undergoing repairs. 

I arrived home, Cleveland, Ohio, Sunday, September 20, having 
in seven weeks completed a journey of more than eleven thousand 
miles. 

In November, 1908, I appeared before the United States Ways 
and Means Committee at Washington, D. C, on behalf of the Window 
Glass Workers of America, favoring the retaining of the tariff on 
window glass, submitting a brief setting forth our claim, and was 
subjected to a two-hour examination by the members of that 
committee. I was successful in having the new schedule reported in 
favor of my contention, and upon the passage of the «bill, the tariff 
on window glass was maintained to the entire satisfaction of my 
constituency. 

Having become politically active during the years 1907-08, I 
presided as chairman of a political meeting November 2, 1908, held at 
Central Armory, Cleveland, Ohio, and introduced Judge William 
Howard Taft, Republican candidate for President of the United States. 

That gathering, numbering more than fourteen thousand people, 
was the largest audience I had ever faced, and the only occasion during 
the campaign upon which a labor leader was selected to introduce "the 
next President." 

November 24, 1908, by invitation of President Roosevelt, I had 
the pleasure of attending a labor dinner at the White House, Washing- 
ton, D. C, at which were present the President, Mr. Justice Holmes f 



44 Fifty Years' Recollections 



Mr. Justice Moody, Major General Leonard Wood, commanding U. S. 
Army; several members of the President's cabinet, including James 
R. Garfield, Secretary of the Interior; Gifford Pinchot, Bureau of 
Forestry; T. V. Powderly, Chief of the Bureau of Information, and 
former General Master Workman of the Knights of Labor, and several 
labor leaders of national reputation. 

The dinner was a very formal affair. At the conference which 
followed in the famous red room, a long, informal discussion ensued 
which had to do with the needs of labor and future congressional 
legislation to benefit the workers. 

In a conference with President-elect Taft in New York City, 
December 16, 1908, it was decided, in view of a federal appointment 
which would be tendered me, that I was not to become a candidate 
for re-election as president of the National Window Glass Workers. 
I was appointed Immigration Inspector (Section 24) July 11, 1909, 
but owing mainly to the state of my health, I did not accept the 
appointment. March 29, 1910, the appointment was again tendered 
me, when I accepted and was sworn in the U. S. Immigration Service 
at Washington, D. C, to operate in the States of Ohio, Indiana and 
Kentucky, with headquarters in Cleveland, Ohio, and immediately 
assumed the duties of that office. 

From March, 1910, to April, 1914, 1 was engaged exclusively upon 
the duties pertaining to that office, specializing upon the enforcement 
of the alien contract labor law under what is known as "Section 24" 
of the U. S. Immigration Laws. 

In April, 1914, I was appointed by Hon. W. B. Wilson, Secretary 
of Labor, as U. S. Commissioner of Conciliation, under the act of 
Congress passed March 4, 1913, to act as a mediator between employers 
and employees in the prevention and adjustment of strikes and labor 
controversies. 

In this position I was attached to the Division of Conciliation, 
Department of Labor, under the direct supervision of the Secretary of 
Labor, with my office at 416 Federal Building, Cleveland, Ohio. Subject 
to the call of the Secretary, my territory extended from the Atlantic 
Coast to the Mississippi River. This work was very strenuous, 
especially during the period of the great European war, into which 
the United States was finally drawn, as it was very essential that all 
labor be kept continuously employed at top speed in the fight for the 
freedom of nations and the perpetuation of civilization throughout 
the world. 

In connection with my duties as president of the Window Glass 
Workers' Association, and as a Government official, it has been my 
fortune to have traveled in the states of Ohio, Indiana, Pennsylvania, 



An Autobiography 45 



New Jersey, New York, Virginia, West Virginia, North Carolina, South 
Carolina, Georgia, Florida, Delaware, Maryland, Rhode Island, 
Connecticut, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Michigan, Minnesota, 
Missouri, Kansas, Iowa, Illinois, Maine, Vermont, Wisconsin, 
Oklahoma, District of Columbia and the Dominion of Canada ; also in 
England, Ireland, Scotland, France and Belgium. 

The first break in our little home circle occurred September 24, 
1910, by the marriage of our only son, Paul, to Miss Grace Blanche 
Barnes of Los Angeles, Cal. The wedding was celebrated at the home 
of the bride's sister, Mrs. Charles B. Hinckley, 1502 Spring Road, 
Cleveland, Ohio, Dr. C. E. Manchester officiating. 

Although we gained a daughter at the time, and have since been 
blessed with two granddaughters, life has never seemed the same 
to me. 

I was brought face to face with the evidence of the existence of 
the inexorable law of change in such manner that I suddenly seemed 
to age, and to anticipate and fear the probability of another loss which 
I felt must in due time be borne — the loss of our only daughter in a 
like manner. 

Probably such thoughts are born of the native selfishness which 
is inherent in all humanity, and should not be entertained to such 
degree as might make for loneliness through a sense of personal loss. 
But human love must have expression either of loss or gain; where 
love is greatest, loss is correspondingly keenly felt, regretted and 
never entirely recovered from. Yet the happiness of my children is 
paramount in my life's desires, and those who bring about their 
greater happiness shall with them share my love and devotion. 

While our children are few in number, yet we have reason to 
thank our Creator for the richness of his blessings. They are mem- 
bers of our church, followers of Jesus Christ toward the life eternal, 
and as I look back upon the happy years agone, the years of their 
childhood in which their future was molded, I have no cause for regret 
for the manner in which our parental care and direction was exercised, 
but joy and thankfulness for the guidance we had in our efforts to 
rightly bring our children through those years of our responsibility 
and care. Imperfect as we may ourselves have been, our love for our 
children has been dominant and supreme in our lives. 

In September, 1916, Paul accepted a position in Detroit, Mich., 
which necessitated the removal of his family to that city. 

On April 18, 1918, a great sorrow came upon us all; like a 
thunderbolt from a clear sky, the blow crashed into our lives, leaving 
us bereft, stricken almost beyond human endurance. Late in the 
evening of that day, after a long and valiant struggle against the grim 



46 Fifty Years' Recollections 



messenger, Grace passed into the great beyond, leaving her two little 
girls to the care of her stricken husband and his people, who loved 
her and mourn her loss as of one of their very own. I can write but 
little of this mighty sorrow which entered our lives at that time; of 
our grief at her loss; the suffering of our son; the great loss of a 
mother's love and guidance to the children, one of whom was too 
young to remember her. I can only try to say with lips half dumb, 
"Thy will be done." 

We laid her away in the family lot in Lakeview Cemetery, Cleve- 
land, Ohio. As we take up the burden of love in the care of the little 
ones, we feel that she is very near us, and that in due time we will 
again all enjoy her sweet companionship in the life to come where 
partings and sorrows enter not. 

On a beautiful sloping knoll, just below and almost within the 
shadow of the great Garfield monument, where lies interred our 
ex-President, James A. Garfield, high up, where upon a clear day the 
bosom of old Lake Erie unfolds to view, lies all that was mortal of 
our loved one, "sleeping peacefully there, 'neath the blue of the sky." 

There, barring something unforeseen by human forethought, will 
eventually rest the earthly remains of the writer and all of his 
immediate family. After life's fitful journey is ended we will be laid 
side by side, there to await the fulfillment of the scriptures, the 
resurrection, and by the grace of God, through Christ, the life eternal. 



The (jreat beyond 



"It seemeth just a little way to me, 
Across to that strange country, 

The Beyond: 
For it has grown to be 
The home of those of whom I am so fond. 

And so for me there is no sting to Death, 
It is but crossing, with abated breath, 

A little strip of sea, 
To find one's loved ones waiting on the shore, 
More beautiful, more precious, than before." 



An Autobiography 47 



The Faulkner Family History 

Maternal 

CHAPTER VIII 

From years of patient inquiry and research with reference to the 
early history of my paternal ancestry, I hereby submit the facts as 
gleaned from a variety of sources, as they appear to me after diligent 
effort to arrive at accurate conclusions by a process of comparison and 
elimination. While I do not absolutely vouch for the authenticity of 
these facts as presented here, at the same time I am morally certain 
that they are in the main correct, and may be relied upon and accepted 
as being substantially as stated. 

Back in the days of William Penn, Charles Christopher Springer, 
accompanied by his two sisters, emigrated from Sweden to America. 
He took up his home near what is now the site of Wilmington, Del. 
He was a wealthy man, having large possessions in Sweden, and upon 
his arrival in America purchased a large tract of land from William 
Penn and became a cattle raiser upon a large scale. He was very 
successful and added largely to his fortune in that way. Finally, 
desiring to retire from active business, he leased for ninety -nine years 
the property acquired by him, upon which now stands the city of 
Wilmington, Del., and returned to Sweden, where he died. 

Catherine Sinex, a descendant of one of the Springer sisters, 
became my grandmother by her marriage to my grandfather, William 
Faulkner. From that union was born my father, William Henry 
Faulkner. 

During my childhood days I remember much talk being indulged 
in from time to time by members of our family with reference to a 
large fortune to which my father was entitled through his mother, 
who was one of the heirs to the Christopher Springer estate. 

In the early seventies the Springer heirs, the descendants of the 
other Springer sister, who likely retained the family name through 
marriage, made attempt to induce my father to sign a document 
releasing his right and title to his interest in the estate. The lease, 
it seems, had long since expired and the Springer family were making 
an effort to secure all of the property. My father, having been advised 



48 

by my grandmother, refused to sign, but decided to visit the city of 
Wilmington for the purpose of examining the records of that county 
that he might be able to establish legal claim to his portion of the 
estate. He accordingly left Bellevernon, Pa., by boat, intending to 
leave Pittsburgh, Pa., the following day for Wilmington, but upon 
arrival at Pittsburgh he received a telegram announcing the destruc- 
tion by fire of the "Old Swedes Church" at Wilmington, which had 
been converted into a county court house, and wherein all of the 
old county records had been preserved. Thus all record of ownership 
and leasing of the Charles Christopher Springer estate was destroyed 
by fire. 

Whether the fire was of incendiary origin is left to the opinion 
of those who were most vitaly interested at the time. Personally, it 
is my belief that those who would most profit by the destruction of 
the records knew of my father's intended visit and purpose and were 
implicated in the destruction of the property. 

The Springer heirs, offspring of the other Springer sister, formed 
an association for the purpose of establishing a legal claim to their 
portion of the estate, and for many years met in annual convention 
with that object in view, but without success. I am informed that the 
association is still in existence. By genealogical research that society 
clearly established relationship to Christopher Springer, but failed to 
establish legal proof of the existence at any time of a lease right to 
the estate. Failure to do so was no doubt due to the destruction of 
the records in the "Old Swedes Church" at Wilmington, Del. 

The following is quoted from a report made by Genealogist 
Scribner, who while in the employ of the Springer heirs, made an 
exhaustive study and investigation pertaining to this matter, which 
was published in the New York "World" in 1907: 

"Charles Christopher Springer, of Wilmington, Del., had holdings 
of his own, aside from his dealings as officer of the Old Swedes Church. 
I have copies of the whole history of the conveyance of the Old Swedes 
Church lands and of the original leases of that property by him as 
trustee with the wardens of the church. 

"His sons and grandsons likewise had holdings, and gave leases to 
the city of Wilmington, which was then a borough town. There has 
never since been sold a building lot to anybody, because a clear title 
cannot be given, and even a lease there to-day is not valid or worth 
the paper it is written on. 

"The city of Wilmington is anxious to effect a settlement, and the 
time is coming for some big surprises in this case. I am working 
steadily on the genealogical tree and expect before the summer is over 
to have a complete list of the heirs who have a right to participate in 



49 

the fortune. My proofs and discoveries are now in the hands of 
attorneys, and I am travelling many hundreds of miles to make the 
chain complete and to effect a solid organization all over the country. 

Land Without a Clear Title 

"In September a meeting of the American representatives will be 
held, and then with a united body we can advance and regain what is 
our own. I do not want any publicity at the present time because on 
the one hand it will warn the authorities of Wilmington that we are 
preparing to do battle with them, and on the other hand it will bring a 
flood of new claimants who are bogus." 

Mr. Scribner, who is so energetically prosecuting the cause of the 
Springer heirs, is a determined little man with iron gray beard and 
hair and a clean cut mouth that gives evidence of his determined 
purpose. He is a carpet layer by trade, living in a modest little home 
on the outskirts of Amesbury, Mass. 

In his possession is what purports to be a map of the city of 
Wilmington, on which is indicated the land alleged to have been leased 
to the city at various times by the Springer forbears. The property 
indicated lies in the heart of the business district, and undoubtedly is 
worth the $120,000,000 claimed for it, whether the Springer claims are 
to be upheld or not. 

The second most precious possession is a large facsimile of the 
Springer coat of arms, which Mr. Scribner, between his more strenous 
work of establishing claims, is copying and distributing among the 
heirs, who, he says, have the royal blood of Charlemagne, Alfred the 
Great, Henry the Fowler, Otho the Illustrious, "even the Tsar and 
Grand Duchess of Russia" in their veins. The coat of arms is the 
customary shield, divided into four sections on two of* which appear 
the figures of the ibex. The whole is surmounted by a knight in 
armor, which he declares to be the figure of Sir Knight Waldenburg, 
another of the illustrious ancestors of the family. 

The combination of the anticipation of a great fortune and the 
coat of arms, together with Mr. Scribner's great energy in working 
up the case, have already greatly interested the eight thousand heirs. 

The tremendous value of the estate to which such vigorous claim 
is being laid, and which makes the contest unique almost in the annals 
of history, is solely due to the length of time which it has been 
unmolested and allowed to accumulate. The original founder of the 
Springer fortune was Carl Christopher Springer, a member of the 
Swedish colony of Wilmington and a trustee of the old Swedish 
Church. In his dual capacity he is supposed to have leased his prop- 



erty and that of the church to the city, though on what terms or for 
what length of time is not known. His children did likewise, it is 
alleged. 

Springer, after his return to Sweden, is supposed to have died, 
leaving a sum of money which has accumulated and increased till the 
total reaches the stupendous amount of $80,000,000, while the value 
of the land lying in business Wilmington is now worth half again 
as much more." 

For a number of years I gave considerable personal attention 
toward solving this important matter, and I am convinced that there 
is only the most remote hope, if any at all, of any of the rightful heirs 
ever receiving any portion of the property. Strong interests are 
opposed to a rightful distribution of the property and it is quite 
unlikely that these great antagonistic interests will ever relinquish 
their present holdings, no matter how they may have been acquired. 

I regret that I am unable at this time to hand to my children 
a more clear history of this vanished inheritance. But when it is 
remembered that I was the youngest of a family of ten children, and 
that the matter had grown indistinct to all of the other children except 
as they might call upon half forgotten memories of facts that were 
always obscure to them, it will be easily understood what a great 
problem confronts me in this effort to faithfully chronicle even the 
above meagre facts in this connection. As a matter of fact this is 
only mentioned here so as in part to establish the identity of my 
paternal ancestry. 

Grandfather Faulkner was of Irish parentage. 

Grandmother Faulkner was of Scotch parentage. 

It is said that Grandfather Faulkner was born on ship board en 
route from Ireland to America. I believe that to be true, and that he 
was born "A man without a country." 



5* 



^Maternal 

John Burroughs, my great-great-grandfather, was a Quaker. He 
resided in Pennsylvania at the beginning of the war for Independence. 
He was a very wealthy man. His religion prevented him from fight- 
ing, but he outfitted a regiment of soldiers for the Continental army. 
He had two sons, Samuel and John. The former sided with the Tories 
and fought in the war for King George. He was captured by the 
Continentals, and his father spent a large part of his fortune to save 
his life. The other son, John, was a Whig, and because of that 
received his father's entire fortune. 

Samuel Burroughs was my great-grandfather. He was born in 
Pennsylvania in 1741, where he married Deborah Johnson. Eight 
children were born of that union, Samuel, Caleb, John, Benjamin, Polly, 
Nancy, Bettie and Beulah, the last named being my mother's mother. 
My great-grandfather, Samuel Burroughs, died in Pennsylvania on 
the night of my mother's wedding, Dec. 28, 1835, at the ripe old age 
of ninety-four. 

James Rankins, my grandfather, was born in Ireland in 1790. He 
emigrated from Ireland coming to America in 1805. For some reason 
never made known by him he adopted his mother's maiden name 
"Dunlap," and was thereafter known by that name. He served in the 
war of 1812 as a corporal of Captain Peter Hertzog's Company, the 
"Fayette Greens," Pennsylvania Militia. He died at St. Charles, Mo., 
m 1873 at the age of eighty-three. It is said that Grandfather Faulk- 
ner served in the same Company with Grandfather Dunlap, but if so 
he enlisted under an assumed name, as the records at Washington 
make no mention of his enlistment or service in the war. 

Beulah Burroughs, my grandmother, was born in Pennsylvania 
and died at St. Charles, Mo. Date of birth and death unknown to me. 

James Dunlap and Beulah Burroughs were married in Pennsyl- 
vania. Thirteen children were born of that union, Samuel B., Robert 
Rankins, Caleb B., Joseph R., George D., James, Mariah Ann 
("Nancy"), my mother, Lizzie, Ursula, Beulah, Mary, Louisa and Lacy 
Jane. The last named was the last surviving member of the family. 
She died at St. Charles, Mo., in 1915, at the age of ninety years. 

Grandfather Dunlap was of Irish parentage. Grandmother Dun- 
lap was of Irish-English descent. 



52 



Life 



Sometime, in the great game of life 
A man endures a bitter strife 
Between his reason and his heart, 
Which makes of him a selfish part 
Of his desires, his hopes and aims, 
And all that his view-point proclaims 
As his to hold and keep apart, 
Most sacred in his inner heart. 

The self within him rises strong — 
He cares not for the right nor wrong — 
He feels that his should be the say 
Of what his life should be alway. 
He fights the fight, but wins it not 
According to the ways he sought. 
He tastes defeat, and suffers keen, 
Through friendly forces all unseen. 

And then, as time wends on its way, 
And he emerges from the fray 
Scar-worn and weary — then he knows, 
As onward on his way he goes, 
That his was not the guiding hand 
Which brought his bark safe to the land- 
But that a higher, holier power 
Had guided him through every hour. 



53 

As I am one who has risen from the ranks of the workingmen, I 
believe that no apology need be offered for the plain, terse manner in 
which events of my life and historical data are herein submitted. 

Born in a small town, reared in the country, neither associations, 
environment or educational advantages were of the best, to say the 
least, with the exception of home teaching and influences with which 
I was blessedly surrounded during the most impressionable period of 
my life. 

The first two years of my schooling was at Bellevernon, Pa. Six 
annual terms of five months each were added at Tremont School, a 
country school located in Washington Township, Fayette County, Pa. 

At the age of fourteen my school days ended and the practical 
educational period began in earnest. At the age of fifteen I began 
work in a window glass factory ; at sixteen I began my apprenticeship 
to learn the art of window glass gathering; at eighteen I was a 
gatherer; at twenty-five I became a blower; at forty I became presi- 
dent of the window glass woikers' organization and at forty-five I 
entered the service of the United States Government, in which I am 
still engaged. 

My purpose in writing this short autobiography, which was 
written from memory, without the aid of a diary or notes, except the 
records of family history, was not born of egotism, but through a 
-desire to give to my children and their posterity a record of our 
family history, so far as I have been able to obtain it, together with 
such occurrences in my life as may be of interest to them now, or of 
possible value later on to them and theirs. With this concluding state- 
ment I humbly and devotedly submit to my beloved wife and children 
this little volume. 



C3£^Z**2^U«^ 



CLEVELAND, OHIO, NOVEMBER, ijxj 



f (tpU^\ 



jan e- mo 



